


Harbinger

by backseatoftheimpala



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: M/M, Non-Graphic Physical Torture, Psychological Torture, Slowly Spiraling Into Insanity, Unreliable Narrator, open for interpretation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-21
Updated: 2017-12-21
Packaged: 2019-02-17 22:12:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 632
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13086441
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/backseatoftheimpala/pseuds/backseatoftheimpala
Summary: Based on a word prompt on tumblr, requested by lacie4045-blogOne that initiates a major change; a person or thing that originates or helps open up a new activity, method, or technology.Hell is cold, they say.





	Harbinger

Hell is cold, they say. It spirals deep, down, where grounds froze and mornings turned into nights, nights into mornings. It was dark and damp, and slippery, with mud and water and shits people dump in the toilet bowl down the Thames. The space he associated with the word safe was small, a rectangular cell with nothing but him and the Others. He hasn't gone that far as to name them, there are too many of them. He hasn't even seen what they looked like, but he could feel them against his skin, sucking on his meat and bones, hoping to feed. Sometimes it changes, sometimes it stays the same. Most of the time they stayed where they are, crawling on the thick muddy walls and his back, silently waiting for death.   
The things he saw, on the other hand, were never quite boring. The black wasn’t really black, and the white always has a shade of gray, with a lot of unnecessary noise that comes with it. High-pitched and cruel, the shrill voice echoed across the small space, along with cackles and an occasional blitz of yellow, and red, and purple. 

Now that’s interesting, He remembered himself thinking. Sparks continue to hit the corners of the cell with different rates of progression. It could go as far as five sparks of different colors per second, as far as he could remember. The voices will then merge into one; soft and delicate. 

Harry…  


An instant pain hits his head, enveloping his whole body with so much pain and heat that he could feel his blood boiling.   


Potter…

PAINPAINPAINPAINPAINPAINPAINPAINIMGOINGTOFUCKINGDIE— 

He woke up the next day. Or maybe a moment later, he was not sure. His body feels surprisingly light; his head clear and his mind… clearer. It was weird, feeling surprisingly enlightened after spending what seems to be an eternity in the dark abyss he called home. Black is all he can see, but the dance of translucent hues filled his vision, an orange too soft and a yellow too bright. He called them the fireflies. Of course, they do not resemble fireflies, and it took him weeks— or a moment— to realize that they are nothing but a projection of his brain, trying to detect colors in a universe eternally absent of it. 

And then he felt It. A sudden blast of raw power and energy, swiftly enveloping the cell. It moves like a serpentine, coiling him in place. His breath hitched, and for the first time in what seemed to be an eternity, he felt something rushing underneath his skin. 

(Blood.) 

Red is all he could see. He could hear himself screaming; screaming for this to end, screaming for the dull agony, screaming for everything. Everything other than the pain. 

“At last, Harry Potter. You’ve found your way out.” A hiss; a very low, almost inaudible hiss. 

“Humans serve as unique horcruxes.” He circled him, his long black robes trailing down the floor, the hem lightly touching his toes. He shuddered involuntarily as he felt cold fingers touching his chin, forcing him to meet the eyes of his captor. 

“Voldemort-“ 

“I’ve seen your soul, Harry Potter. I’ve tested how much it could bear, how much it would sacrifice itself to protect another piece of soul inhabiting the same space.” 

He felt blood on his mouth. 

“Do you like it there Harry Potter? The little dark cell I conjured up for you?” 

No, please don’t. He felt himself slipping down. “You wouldn’t mind, spending an eternity there, don’t you?” 

He wanted to scream, yet the second he opened his mouth, he found himself choking on his own blood. 

“It’s time to switch, Harry Potter. I’ve been there for too long.” 

It’s turning darker and darker.  
.  
.  
.  
.  
.  
.  
.  
.

Pitch black. 

Hell is cold, they say.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! This is unbeta-ed, so all the mistakes are mine. To lacie4045-blog, I've been working on this for a long time, sorry I just posted it now. Hope you like it!


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